


A Very MorMor Wedding

by fabricdragon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Characters Reading Fanfiction, Crack Treated Seriously, Fashion & Couture, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mary Sue, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychopaths In Love, Suit Porn, Tailoring, Weddings, award for self insertion in a fan fic goes to..., for a fashion designer anyway, mormor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:24:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: Jim Moriarty wants a wedding with a wedding dress and he shall HAVE  it!from a conversation in the comments of "The Fluffy Bits" by imanadultiguess  in which i commented about getting blood out of a wedding dress.





	1. Blood on White Silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imanadultiguess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imanadultiguess/gifts), [Ysobelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysobelle/gifts).



Jim Moriarty was pacing around his flat–damn it; this was America it was an apartment– trying not to pick up the cigarettes again.  _I quit, I can always quit, I am NOT smoking…. Fuck it_.  He lit a cigarette and took a long drag of it until his hands stopped shaking. Of course the seamstress showed up then.

She had been one of the few people who passed all the background checks: she was strange but not in the slightest connected with the Holmes boys or government intelligence as far as they could tell–just a short stint in the military that went nowhere. So here she was walking in with her sketch books and a small suitcase full of fabric samples and looking around with a wide eyed look that said he hadn’t managed ‘upper middle class’ very well.

“Mister Donnelly?” she looked at him, at his cigarette and then around the room and a faint sympathetic smile crossed her face, “I’m afraid I’m allergic to cigarettes, and I also must point out that you don’t have an ash tray.”

He looked around, “Oh hell. Yes I put them all away.” He put his cigarette out in the tea cup and took it into the kitchen.  When he came back she had opened several windows and was taking a pill. He looked at her curiously.

“Really allergic, no joke.” She shrugged. “It’s why one of the questions on my file was whether you smoked.”  She tilted her head and waved at the bag, “besides it stinks up the samples.”

“My… apologies. I had quit and…”

“Stress, yeah I get it.  People say the hard drugs are addictive but honestly I think cigarettes are worse since the cues to smoke are everywhere.  Can I ask you to wash your hands and change your outer clothes before I touch you?”

“I washed my hands but…” He shrugged, “let me go change.”

When he came back she had books of fabrics open and some of the images he had discussed on display.  Jim hesitantly pointed out that they were having two weddings, one with both of them in suits, and one… “One where you’ll be creating my dress.”

“Tell me how you want to look… I know you sent me images–can I call you Jim? Last names are kind of formal?”

“Yes, May I call you Kirsten?”

“Good god, you pronounced it in the Norwegian style…” she looked impressed, “sure.”

“I sent you images… I think that–”

She’s shaking her head, “No, it tells me what you like in a dress, or a photo shoot–which is elegant and slightly gothic.  Is that the look YOU are going for?”

Jim smirks just slightly, _elegant and gothic_ … “Yes, about that.”

“Ok, then to get that look ON YOU some of the styles need to change.” She waved at the images, “that one, for instance… on you that wouldn’t look gothic, it would look cute.”

“No, never, not cute!”

“Thought so…” they were going over images and she was sketching and he felt like this one would work.  The last designer they’d hired had apparently been convinced that ‘wants to wear a dress’ meant ‘idiot’ –or maybe he thought femme anything meant idiot– and kept talking to Sebastian.  _Fired and a bad yelp review lacked the satisfaction of knifing him, damn it._

He offered a drink, she apologetically said she had expensive tastes and he laughed, “We’ll get along fine.”  After they each had a few sips– scotch for him, gin and tonic for her– they went back to looking at lace patterns.   It turned out she had a passing familiarity with scotch–friends who were aficionados– and in between fashion discussions he was happily educating her on the brands he preferred.

In the middle of all of this his phone rang: Sebastian asking some business questions.  He did his best to answer them without being too obvious in front of her.  After he was done he muttered, “I swear I’m going to knife him.”

Without looking up she said, "Not in this dress! You have no idea how hard it is to get blood out of white silk..."

Jim blinked at her… she was still sitting there, chewing on a nail, looking dubiously at some fabric selections.

"Sebie doesn't want me in white...” he found himself admitting.  God they’d argued. Sebastian insisting that since they’d lived together for so many years it was improper to wear white… Jim screaming at him that it was improper for two men to get married and doubly so for one of them to be in a damn dress. Jim was horrified to find himself trying not to cry.  “He doesn't even care how much I want a traditional dress…"

She sighed and handed him tissues–that she’d apparently brought with her. "Have you considered champagne? As a color? It would be softer on your complexion...and wwwaaaay easier to get out bloodstains.” She smiled and patted his shoulder.  She turned pages to some very delicate laces and pearls in a glimmering champagne color.

“But don't push it, we're talking pin stick or booboo level blood...no stabbing anyone."

Jim looked up from the admittedly very attractive fabric samples and stared at her. "Why...do you think I might stab someone?"

“Honey...this isn't my first wedding dress...” She shook her head.  “I’m about as non-violent as they come and I was about ready to stab someone… Besides, you look like a knife guy, so… are you planning on carrying at the wedding? Because if so we have tailoring choices to make before I get started–also I need to know what you typically carry and where.”

Jim stared at her and slowly answered, “Boot or ankle knife sheath, I usually carry a gun at my waist and a knife in a shoulder sheath…”

“Well, if you want a fitted top carrying ANYTHING above the waist will be tricky…” she frowned and drew some quick sketches, “forgive the crudity I’m just getting the lines…” she muttered, “Ok, so if we have a slight bustle, or an asymmetric gather for the skirt…” she frowned, “could you stand up and walk around? I need to watch you move.”

Jim did, not certain whether to be perplexed, suspicious, or delighted.

“Yeah, no… a bustle will drive you up the wall. Let’s go for a side gather, and some sweeping lines… it will make you look taller and thinner, but you have enough meat on you to handle that.”

“I thought that was a good thing?”

“If you are already tall and thin, it can make you gaunt looking.” 

She waved him back over and showed him her phone. “Ok, see these images? See that skirt–I know it’s not a wedding dress, just look at the skirt– that’s what I’m suggesting.”

He looked at the rough sketch, “That would be really nice actually…”

“And a PALE champagne, with iridescent and lavender crystals? Or do you have a color you and your husband like?”

“His eyes are blue…” Jim smiled, “perfectly blue.”

She got into one of the boxes and pulled up an iridescent crystal that flashed brown to blue as the light hit it. “There, both of your eye colors!”  She put it down next to the pale champagne silk and the matching lace… “Now adding crystals like that to the lace and silk is hand work, and to meet your time table I will have to hire some extra embroiderers… I know a lot, so that’s no problem, but…”

“It’s perfect; just adjust the cost…” 

They went over more, and then she wanted the first round of measurements, “do you have the holsters? I need to know where the waist and hip ones sit to measure…”

“You… you aren’t weirded out by this?”

“I’m in fandom, and medieval reenactment…we've heard it all.” She just shrugged. “I had to make a period perfect Victorian gown that she could draw a short sword from.” She looked up, “HIDING one is easy, being able to get it out from under all those layers? Not so much.”

So Jim got out a number of holsters and sheaths, and she looked politely at the guns and somewhat appreciatively at the knives, but didn’t touch them.

“Hmmm…. You want gothic elements? How about we put a real knife right on your hip and build the sheath into the dress? You’d need a more decorative blade… if we got a matched set you could have one straight down the bodice and one at your hip?”  She sketched and showed some images from webpages…

“Oh my GOD yes!” Jim said staring at some of the designs, “Just in champagne…”

Kirsten nodded, “I’ll have to get in some help then: Nikki for the bodice construction, and I think I can get Brianna for the bead work–you’re lucky it’s not traditional wedding season or Nikki would be booked solid and Briana is between theatre shows right now.”

“This is perfect… I am SO glad I called you.”

“Err… speaking of which… why did you call me? I don’t advertise wedding dresses on my page…”

Jim shrugged, “I liked the style of some of your work, but honestly you were down quite a few…. But most of the others I liked the style of had…” _Security concerns_ , he thought. “Things to dis-recommend them.  Anyway then we hired this other guy and,” Jim counted backward from ten, “Well… I didn’t stab him.”

“Who was it?”

Jim told her.  She frowned, “can you show me his webpage? I’m horrid with names.”

Jim showed her, and she snorted, “Oh!  You didn’t?  I’m impressed.  Yeah he’s actually very good at tailoring and I’ll give him props on technical merits, but he’s an asshole.”

“He kept talking past me to my…Sebastian.”

She shook her head, “Ok… I’ll get you the revised sketches, the revised estimate–and no joke it will be a LOT higher than the first one with these changes– and we need to wait to get the detailed measurements until we can finalize some construction details… but I should get the basic measurements now.”

Jim never was body shy so he just stripped down to his underwear.  She didn’t comment on the weapons, but just took measurements without them and then suggested he put his ‘typical’ weapons on and took notes and measurements of that.

“Ok, so we need to get the next steps done fast to make sure we don’t run out of time.  As soon as you get the new contract and sign off on it we’ll need to set up a primary drape and fitting… “

“I can rearrange my schedule a great deal; I’m self-employed.”

She raised an eyebrow at the weapons, “Must be nice…” she sighed, “but I found out a long time ago I wasn’t cut out for any kind of covert work.”

Jim half wanted to shoot her, but the dress design was too good, “and why not?”

“Apparently I am memorable.  Like highly.  Like whatever trick some people have of not being recognized even though a lot of them are really good looking?” Jim nodded, she smirked, “I don’t have it.  I have people who recognized me in my thirties after not seeing me since I was twelve.”

Jim blinked at her  and couldn’t help the horrified feeling that washed over him–hiding in plain sight was one of his best tricks, after all– “Well THAT would be a problem.”

“Yup, I just keep reminding myself of two things,” she held up a finger, “anyone could identify you,”  she held up another, “you look horrible in orange.”

Jim laughed, “Everyone does.”

“No, no, I know a few people… but I am not one of them.  Oh yes, and three… I have a horrible amount of guilt, so I could never steal from, or hurt anyone unless they hurt one of my friends.”

“Don’t you mean hurt you?”

“Nah, hurt me? I’ll be pissed and yell and say nasty stuff about you and then probably go cry somewhere.  Hurt one of my friends and… well… believe it or not I know how to get rid of a body pretty fast.”

Jim considered… she actually looked serious, “Ever done it?”

“Nope.  Good thing too, messed up my knees in the military.”

“Yeah, moving bodies needs henchmen.”

She grinned, “Friends help you move, good friends help you move books, REALLY good friends help you move bodies…” she picked up her things, “See you in a few days!”

~

When Sebastian came home Jim was sitting  on the sofa, looking happier than he had in weeks.

“Either it went better than the last one, or you actually got to stab this one.”

“She’s PERFECT!” Jim said happily, “really, really strange for someone who looks that straight and vanilla, but…she’s going to build in access for a gun and a few knives…”

“Wait… this is the WEDDING DRESS lady, right?”

“Yes.” Jim glared at him, “And I LIKE her.  She’s faxing over the new estimate based on all the things we discussed… and she’ll be back for more fittings in a few days.”

“Uh… Jim, she is building knife and gun access into your wedding dress?  Are we sure we have a good background check on her?”

“She’s quite sweet, and very understanding and go ahead and run another check because hell yes we missed stuff with her, but I like her anyway.”  Jim stalked off.

Sebastian just sighed, “life with my little drama queen.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

 


	2. Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 1 is Kirsten part 2 after the ~ is Sebastian's POV and... it gets into utterly TOOTH rotting fluff.  
> Mentions of BDSM and relationship issues.

Kirsten went home and sighed. This was definitely one of the stranger clients, but… if they didn’t start to bitch about how “it’s not that much work to…” then she’d just smile and pretend she didn’t notice ANY of it.

He seemed nice–kind of twitchy but he basically was the bride, so…

She sat down and worked on sketches and damn near cried at filling out the estimate. _I HATE these things; God I need a business manager_. She checked the prices of everything and winced at the cost of the GOOD lace… she prepared two or three options just in case.

She plugged the measurements into a croquis generator and hesitated.  Better to send a note…

“Jim,  

The sketches I worked with at our meeting were done on a standard fashion croquis, which is overly elongated to show dress details.  It also doesn’t really reflect how the dress would look on you, so this croquis is based on your actual measurements.  I know it can be a bit of a shock to see the difference, but if you only see the sketch on a figure that is 6 foot 6 and underweight, you won’t get a good idea of how it will look.  We will also do some draping at our next appointment just to give you a feel for the lines.

Kirsten”

Then she sat back and tried to relax… which was never going to work. She’d quoted the “I hate doing wedding dresses” prices to the guy and he hadn’t even blinked, if this actually went through it was a LOT of her income.

It was half killing her not to call any of her friends but she didn’t want to get their hopes up for commission work if he backed out.

He replied the next day.

“Kirsten, I think I’ll need to see the draping to decide between the options.  I’m free all day Wednesday. Jim”

… and he sent a deposit.

Kirsten swallowed hard at the numbers and started clearing her schedule… _I might do more wedding dresses if I got more clients like this…_

~

Sebastian came home from an assignment–simple stuff really but it needed someone with command authority–to find Jim frowning at his computer. That wasn’t unusual, but Sebastian had learned that Jim’s frowns came in the same varieties as the word “sir” in the military: it could mean anything from “my favorite web comic didn’t update” to “I’m bored and I just started World War Three”.

“Sir?” always safer to stick with titles until you found out what mood he was in. “What’s the problem?”

“How attached are you to the guy who ran the background checks on the dress people?” Jim sounded suspicious… that was bad.

“Not.  He’s just a contractor although he has a good reputation, what happened?” _oh Jesus if the lady skipped out with his deposit it was going to be a blood bath._

“I want to know how he got this much wrong.  I did a look up on Kirsten and… he’s WRONG, and it’s not even hidden.”

“She’s in with the Holmes boys?” Sebastian’s mouth went dry at that.

“She has some connections, but I honestly think they might be coincidental…” Jim spun his chair around, frowning. “I LIKE her… so you are going to have to vet her for me.”

“Ah…” he nodded.  “No problem.  So can you tell me what our boy missed?”

“Well he got her age wrong.  He has her listed as in her thirties–and honestly she looked about that I guess– but she’s just over fifty.”

Sebastian’s eyes went hard and flat, “if he made a twenty year mistake on her age… then his entire profile is bad.”

“My point, Sebie.” Jim sighed. “Like I said, she’s not HIDING it… so I have no idea how he got it wrong.  In addition she uses a variation on her previous business name, AND the same profile picture all over the internet… but somehow he didn’t find out, or didn’t tell us, about half of her online dealings.”

Sebastian considered, “but she’s not hiding it?”

“No.  I seriously just did a basic bored internet search on her old business name and…” he made a ‘boom’ gesture with his hands, “Although it does confirm that  she has… um…” he gave Sebastian one of those shockingly hot looks that made  him weak in the knees, “Some familiarity with our kind of play.”

“Oh?”  Sebastian slid to his knees without thinking, “do tell.”

“Later–you’ve been gone for over a day and I need to check you for injuries.” Jim walked up and grabbed his collar. “Come on.”

…

Jim checked him head to toe and then  made sure he had enough “injuries” to reduce him to a purring heap on the sofa the next morning even after coffee.

…

So this lady was showing up today and Jim wanted Sebastian to go over her background.  He looked at what Jim had pulled up before he got too angry at their security reviewer to continue and shook his head again.  _Boy better have some good excuse or I’ll put a bullet in his head, this was beyond sloppy_.

Wrong age, and therefore wrong data all through, and he’d probably discounted some data as being the wrong person because of the age difference… _how the fuck many people had THAT name anyway_?

Sebastian was just starting his own search when the lady in question showed up.

Jim smiled and fussed and walked her in. “Another gin and Tonic?”

“Too early for me to start that and not enough food in my stomach yet, thanks: tea?”

Sebastian walked in with a frown, “Tea?  I thought most of you Americans liked Coffee?”  Jim could maintain an accent forever and a day, but Sebastian couldn’t manage for too long, so his cover was English.

“Ugh, no. I can’t stand the stuff–or rather I can only tolerate good Turkish or  drowning Kona in enough milk to make my coffee loving friends flinch.  I’m a tea drinker.” She looked Sebastian over, and then frowned, and looked back at Jim.

“Oh dear, please tell me you didn’t change your mind?”

Jim looked startled, “Pardon?”

“You two both look tense, and I remember your fiancé wasn’t too thrilled about the dress…”

Sebastian didn’t want to start in on THAT argument again, “No, no nothing like that! Look I admit I don’t understand why he wants to get married twice–especially since he looks so incredible in a suit– but he made it clear that’s what he wants and its fine by me!”

“Oookay? Did… is this a bad time?”

Jim sighed, “Actually the issue is your background check.”

Sebastian blinked and looked at Jim, _You’re just telling her… of course you are, why make my life easy._

“Oh?” she blinked, but wasn’t confused about…

“Jim, did you TELL her we’d run a background check?”

“Well, yes? Obviously?”

I put my hand over my face, “You didn’t tell me…”

She cackled, that was the only word for it, “I know you know but I didn’t know you knew that I knew…”

Sebastian just gave up and looked tired at Jim, “Right… ok… fine.” He looked back at her. “Can we talk?”

“You’re his bodyguard aren’t you? I thought that’s what he was about to say last time.  Sure.” She glanced back at Jim, “I DO tell people where I’m going… I’m not an IDIOT.”

Jim just grinned, “I’ll start tea.”

She looked back at Sebastian, “I have no idea if he told you but I’m lethally allergic to cigarette smoke.  So if we’re going to talk with that clinging to your jacket you need to be in a heavily ventilated room… also I need you to scrub your hands before you touch me.”

“JIM!”

“Oh, uh… forgot? Sorry!” Jim smiled and fled into the kitchen.

She shook her head, “Yeah, he was smoking when I got here and–”

“JIM was?”

“Yeah? No ash trays and he looked  really–”

Sebastian waved at her to stay put and walked into the kitchen. “Pay up.”

“What?”

“She says you were smoking.”

Jim winced, “Fuck.” He got into his wallet and handed all the cash over. “And I just took out cash this morning.”

“Aaaand that makes a nice dent in the vacation fund.” Sebastian eyed the wad and put it away. “She’s actually allergic?”

“Apparently.” Jim shrugged and went back to making tea.  Sebastian went back to the living room.

“Sorry, we have a bet going…”

“OH!” she looked really relieved. “What’s the bet if you don’t mind my asking?”

“He had to hand over all the cash in his wallet if I find out he had a smoke, whether that’s five bucks or five hundred.” Sebastian grinned, “it’s going toward a vacation of my choice–usually he picks where we go.”

She relaxed even more, “oh…”

“So… is it ok if we’re in here? It will take me a while to change otherwise.”

“I know you’re armed, you know.  I don’t care.”

Sebastian blinked and considered, “Right, you’re designing for Jim to carry…” he shrugged and stripped off the jacket and took it away, washed his hands and came back in a casual Henley.  She was looking at sketchbooks and samples when he came back.

“So, I need to ask you…”  he started and she looked up, ignored the holster and then raised her eyebrows at his arms.

“Yeah,” he nodded “our background check said you were vanilla, but Jim did a–”

“Your background check said I was WHAT?” she sounded offended.

“Apparently he got your age wrong, which meant he discounted a lot… and I don’t honestly think he did a good job anyway.  I’ll be having words with him later.”

She held up a hand, “plausible deniability: I do not want to know.” then she shrugged, “One, nice marks… two…” she tilted her head, “switch or sub?” she asked very slowly, like she was puzzling things out.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, “kind of personal.”

“Let me be blunt, then.” She frowned at him and said with a protective tone, “My client was very upset about your attitudes toward his choices.  I’ve dealt with WAY too many situations where that got bad fast… I’m trying to figure out the dynamic and if I want to be anywhere near it even FOR that much money.”

Sebastian blinked a lot… “Wait… you… think I’m…” he started laughing, then he couldn’t stop laughing as Jim came in with a tray of tea….

Jim stared at them both and put the tea tray down. “What on earth?”

“No clue…” She shrugged, “I was talking about my personal boundaries and he cracked up.”

Sebastian managed to crawl over to Jim and took up a position kneeling at his feet.  Jim looked shocked and glanced over quickly at the woman who … was watching with a degree of relief?

“Jim? She was worried I was bullying you about the dress…”

Jim slowly reached down and stroked his head and ran his fingers down Sebastian’s neck. “Oh… well… you… were upset, and I was upset…”

She just snorted very indelicately, “And I was concerned because when my client is upset about their partner giving them problems over this… it’s not good.”  She looked back and forth, “HAVE you settled this? Because if this is going to be a flash point, I really don’t want to be in the middle of it.”

Jim smiled and gestured for Sebastian to get up. “He’s confused about the dress part; he was upset about the white part–he never got over his Catholic upbringing.”

Sebastian actually felt better than he had in a long time. “You know… it’s a relief to be able to do that, Boss.”

“Right, wedding dress design with a side of counseling.” She sighed. “Please sit down, PLEASE give me my tea, and incidentally we weren’t introduced properly: I’m Kirsten.”

“Sebastian.” I glance at Jim, “And to answer your question?  I can switch but I prefer to sub… and I had no idea of that until I met Jim.”

Jim blinked, “Good heavens what WERE you talking about?”

“I was noticing the very nice marks on his arms, and I was trying to figure out how likely the situation was to get unpleasant with my part in this–the dress.”  She looked back and forth, “As long as you aren’t actually trying to have a scene in front of me while I’m fitting… and you don’t get TOO much into PDAs while I’m working… I really don’t care.”

Jim grinned happily and suddenly Sebastian was pulled over as Jim kissed him, and bit him gently, “Told you I liked her.” He said against Sebastian’s lips.

When Sebastian looked up she had her eyes crinkled up and was smiling, “Awww… you two are adorable.”

“So,” Jim said happily, “Can Sebie ask you questions while you do whatever it is you were doing today?”

“Sure, but you may need to repeat them or wait if I’m concentrating, and don’t blame me if you get TMI.” She went over to her suitcase. “So I brought a lot of yards of a cheap champagne fabric.  It’s NOT the silk and it won’t drape perfectly, but I can do a few mock ups so you can get an idea of how certain shapes will work on you.” she looked apologetic, “It will be held together with pins, so you won’t be walking in it , but it should help you narrow down your choices.”

Jim stripped down to his underthings–and Sebastian was smugly looking at the kiss bruises on his skin– and she hauled out what looked like drapes or something and started pinning and  fussing with it while Jim stood in front of a mirror.

“Go ahead and ask,” she said waving a pair of rather deadly looking scissors and tucking a sharpie marker in her pocket.

Sebastian started asking, and she answered readily enough–although she freely admitted that she had no memory for names and dates and a lot of the answers came down to a shrug and “a long time?”– but eventually Sebastian got distracted watching dresses  appear on Jim.  A few pins and sometimes twists of fabric and–at least from the front– Jim was wearing a different dress.

Sebastian had been very dubious about the concept of Jim in a dress, admittedly, but…

Jim didn’t look like a girl, exactly, but he didn’t look the same…

“Problem, Tiger?” Jim asked after she stepped back from the latest creation.

“That… actually…looks really good.” Sebastian admitted.

He’d never seen Jim smile quite that happily before.

 


	3. oops?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sushi, discussions, Fanfiction and... "i swear i'm not a serial killer just a writer"

After the fitting Sebastian cleared his throat. “I know it’s a moot point because obviously you’re staying… but I would like to find out more about just HOW badly our background check messed up.”

Kirsten checked her phone, “Whoa, way past meal time.”  She muttered and then grinned at Sebastian, “Order in food I can eat, or take me out, and I will talk your ear off–I have expensive tastes and food allergies so I’m fairly easy to interrogate.”

Jim raised an eyebrow and got a quirked look behind her, and Sebastian had to cough several times. “Right… well… um… we’ll order in–better privacy.”

Extensive negotiations of allergies and preferences later and they’d ordered Japanese food and enough sushi to make Kirsten’s wallet flinch sympathetically.

“So… according to the actual background check, you were thirty something… which threw off everything else.”

“I’m flattered, but… uh…” she suddenly grinned, “Oh, I bet I know… it’s the age I went into the military and the age I went to college… I was OLD for both of those… if he presumed I was young and didn’t double check?”

“Sloppy.” Muttered Jim and looked meaningfully at Sebastian.

 _Right, investigate the guy more before killing him or anything_.  Sebastian coughed, “so you said about the SCA and stuff…”

“Let me give you the very short form now that I’m not pinning you…” and she was partway through the trials and travails of being cursed with what was, at the same time, a very memorable and a very vanilla appearance, when the food arrived.

There was a delay as they unpacked and got drinks.  Jim noted that Kirsten used chopsticks like a pro, but seemed only vaguely familiar with the more esoteric sushi.  He asked, she pointed out about budget and texture issues, and Sebastian doggedly returned to asking questions.  She showed no sign of lying–only hesitating at points that were perfectly normal to hesitate before discussing. 

“So… when Jim looked you up himself…” Seb finally got around to THOSE questions. “You have a bunch of friends overseas but you haven’t traveled much?”

“Internet, mostly, although I met some of them when they traveled for SCA or fandom events.” She shrugged, snagging another salmon sushi and looking hopefully for more ginger. “Plus I’m in fandom groups and fanfiction groups for English stuff, so…”

“Isn’t fanfiction… fandom about fiction?”

She froze… “Oooohhh no, no no… my poor sweet innocent boys….”

“Innocent?!” Jim almost choked.

“Sweet?” Sebastian said dubiously, then looked at Jim, “innocent?!”

Kirsten started smirking, “Sweet, naïve, sheltered, innocent lambs… poor sweet summer children…”

“Now you’re just going overboard.”

“True.” She cleared her throat, “Fanfiction is fan WRITTEN fiction, usually based on fictional characters like the Avengers or James Bond.”

Sebastian refrained from going into his usual discussion of how much of the Bond series was based in fact. “Okay?”

“A significant amount of it is what we call ‘slash’ meaning romantic or sexual pairings.” She looked over her tea with amused eyes, “usually gay.”

“Oh?” Jim started looking intrigued.

“Now since it can’t be sold–it’s based on other people’s licensed rights usually– it is written for free, and distributed, quietly, for free… which means  you get a lot of unedited talent, a lot of pure junk, and some that if there was any justice would be  on the best seller list.”

“A best seller… in porn?” Sebastian asked dubiously.

“It’s not ALL porn.” She hesitated, “Look, a lot of it is porn, but there’s a lot that isn’t… and anyway... I write fanfiction…” she glanced amused at Sebastian, “Admittedly most of mine is smutty and has BDSM in it.”

Jim looked her over; she did in fact look very much like someone who might faint at finding out too much about what they did in bed… “Ok, I give up… you write … what? Smutty Avengers porn?”

“Yes.” She said politely over her tea.  After they both finished laughing, she smirked, “Go over to a computer, type in Archive Of Our Own and once you find the webpage type in my old business name… and try not to spit drink on the keyboard.”

Sebastian pulled the laptop over.  She saw his eyes as he found the site, and as they found her page… Jim had leaned in to read over Sebastian’s shoulder so she snagged the last bit of salmon and waited.

“Watchmen?” Jim asked suddenly.

Kirsten’s eyes widened, “OH!  oh I wrote that as a gift… um… uh… its... more intense…” she cleared her throat and curled up a bit, cringing.

_They’re gonna fire me.  No they’re going to call the bloody COPS and then fire me… oh hell…_

Jim’s eyes widened as he was reading… he’d always identified a bit with Ozymandius, and to see the Comedian get the better of him so easily was… _Oooooh my, that was a bit hot though_ … and then...   He grinned ferally as he realized the double cross. “Oh he LIKES it?”

Sebastian was shifting in his  seat, it had gotten a bit hot in here.

Kirsten coughed, “The second story makes it a bit clearer… I’ll just go… um…”

Sebastian waved her back. “No, no… I have questions…” he shifted again and took a gulp of his drink.

“If they’re about my fan fiction… can you at least read the second story or the third, or the series, before you judge me?”  She muttered, “or read ANY of my Bond or Avengers…”

Jim looked up brightly, “So there’s more of this?”

Sebastian tried not to moan, an inspired Jim was a delicious and dangerous thing.

“Yes, and a LOT of my Facebook friends overseas are either from this–fanfiction– or from some other fandom or costuming connection.” Kirsten didn’t quite meet their eyes as she added, “You can search by fandom, or tags, or just read my bookmarks.”

Sebastian looked up, “Ok, so I actually do need to look at this for…. Uh… security reasons… since this is how you know some people…”

“Remember!” Kirsten held up a hand, “the writers’ mantra: honestly I’m not a serial killer–it’s research.”

Jim grinned, “Hey, both is a thing.”

“Tell me about it.” she sighed. “So I can finalize the sketches and we can do the beginning fitting…”

“Day after tomorrow?” Jim asked and glanced at Sebastian who nodded.

She jotted down a note. “Oh um... since you seem twitchy about my contacts in England…?”

“We do?” Sebastian tried to sound innocent–judging from Jim’s snort it didn’t work.

“I’m vaguely oblivious, not stupid–that’s where all your questions kept circling back to.” She had packed her things before eating so she  was ready to go in a moment. “Just pointing out that for Americans writing British based stories, like Doctor Who or Bond?  We usually ask native folks to ‘Brit pick’ and correct our sweaters into jumpers and get details right–they ask Americans for help when they write American based fiction.”

Jim nodded, “That would explain it.”

“Also the history stuff? Lots of SCAdians would about die for a chance to see the clothes and things you have in your museums.”

“Not mine.” Jim corrected immediately.  He smirked and spread his arms out across the sofa–remembering museum jewels…

Kirsten looked at him to say something and facts started tumbling into place. Very, very slowly her eyes widened, “oh shit…”

Sebastian’s hand twitched toward a weapon, but Jim mostly looked curious, “oh shit?”

“Err…”  she left her luggage  and sat back down. “So… there’s this genre of fanfiction that uses real people… its tagged Real Person on AO3, or RPF or something–like, several of my friends write fanfiction about musicians and bands.”

Jim had a sudden recollection of Molly, “OH!  Oh wait… you know I have heard about that… someone I used to know was really into Glee…”

Sebastian started making a strangled noise and grabbed his drink. “I doubt she was into anything like this…” he waved at the computer.

Kirsten smiled faintly, “The majority of the slash fic writers are women. I’m in the older co-hort but… don’t rule it out.”

Jim shrugged, “So what’s the ‘oh shit’?”

She pulled out her pad and typed a bit, muttered, and then, “A lot of people do photo manips–photo manipulations.  This one is famous…” she held out her pad with an image of  Tony Stark as portrayed by RDJ tied to some kind of frame with Loki holding his hair back…

Jim whistled, and Sebastian felt his pants get rather tight again. “Wow that…”

She sighed and pulled the pad back, tapping over to another image.  She held it out to them.

There on the screen was Jim Moriarty, sitting and smirking, holding Sherlock Holmes at his feet on a leash.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Watchman series i wrote is here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/374051  
> the first story is ... um.. brutal and not quite what it looks like. following stories are a bit more... story and less PWP  
> MIND THE TAGS!


	4. fanfiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the wrong questions get asked, but Seb and Jim discover Real Person Fanfiction

Kirsten watched as Sebastian tensed, and a muscle in his jaw locked.  She was terrible at judging tone of voice, or text, but fairly good at expression after all… _He’s jealous, and angry_. 

Jim, on the other hand… his eyes widened and then he looked fascinated and reached a hand out before glancing at Sebastian and pulling back.

 _Sigh_. “Mister Moriarty…” Kirsten sighed faintly and closed the pad, putting it down on the table.

“Are you certain?” Jim asked with a faint smile.

“Oh I’m certain,” she shrugged. “The clues were piling up–hell, I’d subconsciously realized you weren’t American– but it was when you draped yourself over the sofa and looked… like that.” She looked around thoughtfully, “I’ll take that gin and tonic if you don’t mind.”

Sebastian glanced at Jim but he was being hard to read again, so he went to make a gin and tonic–and drinks for them.

“I know it’s the cheapest you have, but it’s my comfort gin, so Bombay Blue Sapphire, light on the gin, extra lime if you can.” Kirsten asked politely.

“If you’re certain who I am, aren’t you frightened?”

“Not yet, I’ll probably come unglued later.” She shrugged, “I really do have people who know where I am, if you’re going to kill me make it fast, and if you touch my pets I will come back and haunt you until you die screaming.”

Jim blinked a lot– _totally not the reaction I usually get_ – a part of him wanted to throw her up against the Iceman but she’d probably just fangirl over his suits.

Sebastian handed her the drink with a perplexed look, “What did you just say?”

“I said if anything happens to my pets I will haunt you until you die screaming.”  She smiled up at him, “oh, thank you… looks lovely.” She took the drink and held onto it firmly.

Sebastian was looking at Jim for clues and not getting any. “So… uh…”

Jim was beginning to really appreciate the woman, not many people were quite this bluntly honest and still polite, “Do you think I’d kill you?”

She blinked and looked up in a puzzled fashion, and then looked at Jim and looked at Sebastian, and back. “No.”

That startled both of them. “No?” Jim asked.

“No.” she shook her head, “Not unless you felt threatened, like to stop me from telling the wrong people.”

While Jim was being quiet Sebastian tried to puzzle it out, “So you want money…?”

She stiffened immediately, “I do NOT blackmail people!”  she glared at Sebastian with  a great deal of ferocity before hesitating and admitting,   “I’m too broke to afford enough pride to turn down any money that you offer me, but it’s not going to affect my decision.”

Jim couldn’t quite stop the laugh. “Too broke to afford enough pride?”

“Pride is expensive.” She shrugged. “I’m not telling anyone, UNLESS I have reason to believe you two are a danger to my friends–I did discuss my opinions on that?  And no you don’t have to pay me,” she frowned, “extra I mean–stiff me on the dress bill and we have issues.”

Jim was utterly boggled, “And you don’t want money…?”

“Of course I WANT money, who doesn’t want money?” Kirsten snorted, “But I’m not blackmailing you or asking for more or padding my bill or anything.”

Sebastian waved a hand in a fashion that should look vague but was one of their codes for, “Orders please?”

Jim sat back, “We’re not going to hurt you, as long as you keep your mouth shut.”  He looked thoughtful, “Am I that recognizable? I thought I’d made enough changes…”

“I’m partially faceblind,” she shrugged, “so oddly that helps, because I don’t recognize faces from pictures well anyway.  It’s the posture, the body language, the smirk… and the fact that you’re from the right country, or region, and the weapons… you have a bodyguard who’s looking for kill orders from you. Sebastian has SAS written all over him anyway.”

“I do? I mean…” he glanced at Jim, “I should I guess, but how do you know?”

“The SCA’s biggest event in the region is Pennsic War.” She hadn’t really drunk much of her drink, mostly seemed to be using it as a comfort object, “When the Gulf War broke out, military vehicles showed up to revoke leave… and so many people were pulled in for duty that people were left scrambling to pack down tents–we have a lot of military, lots are marines or special ops.” She looked Sebastian over with that distant look again, “and I did a lot of research for my Bond fiction.”

Jim said softly, “you are very observant.”

“Kind of?” she blinked and sipped her drink. “Completely oblivious most of the time but, “she tapped her head, “stuff piles up in here until it clicks.”

“You are right… as long as you keep your mouth shut, you’re safe.”

“Right, so back to plausible deniability…” she forced a deep breath and waved at their computer, “So, um… don’t murder my friends who write Real Person Fiction?  It’s not really about you…just… the public persona…?”

“I didn’t know anyone wrote fiction about me…” Jim glanced at Sebastian, “if it was based in any fact it would be kind of,” he ran a tongue over his lip, “adult.”

“Aand that’s my cue to go.” She sipped her drink and looked at it sadly, “leaving a gin and tonic just seems wrong, though.”

“You write smut– really HOT intense smut–”  Sebastian  was incredulous, “and you’re SHY?”

“It’s different in person.” She muttered, “Also you two are the only ones here; it’s not like it’s at Aviary.”

“At what?”

“The local kink and fetish social gathering.” At their blank looks she sighed and wrote it down, “look it up.  Look do you mind if I sit here until I finish my drink?  Wasting a good gin is a crime.”

…

“She is a VERY strange lady.” Sebastian said after he’d shown her out.

“Yes, yes she is.” Jim sighed, “I didn’t expect anyone to recognize me in Philadelphia of all places!”

“We aren’t going to bother her though?”

“No… just set up to monitor her communications, as long as she doesn’t tell anyone we’re fine.”

Sebastian sat down; thinking over what Jim had asked about, “I didn’t know she knew that much about scotch.”

“First day she was here I got her a gin and tonic, and myself a scotch, and she talked scotch.  Apparently she doesn’t personally like the peaty taste of a lot of them, but knows the brands and bottles–it shouldn’t surprise me that she recognized expensive gin, given that she drinks it.”  Jim sighed, “and now that I think about it her eyes did track on the expensive art: I’ll have to ask…”

“I didn’t expect her to recognize the weapon brands, much less an SAS standard…”

“Sebie… I didn’t know people were writing fan fiction about me, so one of us has to read it and find out…”

“Yeah,” Sebastian winced, “based on that image it’s not going to be fun.”

Jim bit back several comments and finally said, “Well Sherlock is very public…”

Sebastian grumbled. “Look, why not read more of her stuff, and I’ll skim through…there’s PAGES of this stuff?”

“hmm?”

“I searched for Jim Moriarty… there’s PAGES of it… I mean of the titles…” Sebastian raised an eyebrow, “crossovers? They have crossovers between Sherlock Holmes real person fiction and James Bond? And Hogwarts?!”

“Sebie… look, switch.  You read her writing; it should give you a better idea of her personality–”

“She’s weird, friendly, and mostly harmless–what else do you need to know?”

“I need to sort through anything people have written about me in case any of it is accurate…”

“Then I am going to go over it with you.” Sebastian said firmly.

“I’m hardly going to go running back to London, Sebastian,” Jim sighed, “Are you REALLY that upset over the image? Because I’m marrying YOU, not Sherlock…”

“It…” Sebastian sighed, “Your history together goes back to childhood!”

“Not really, Sebie… we crossed paths and… that was it.”  Jim reached out and pulled Sebastian over. “Fine, we read them together–or at least skim the stories, okay?”

…

After several frustrating minutes. “Well, we can rule out any that don’t list me as a character… so…”

…

After several more frustrating hours. “Jim… are you SURE I can’t hunt this person down for abuse of grammar?”

They stopped for the night and Jim tried his best to soothe Sebastian’s jealousy by wearing him out in bed…

But insomnia was a not infrequent companion of his and soon enough Jim was at his desk, working on business and reading fanfiction in the other tab.

Most of it was completely ridiculous, of course.  When he stumbled over one where he was reformed (and turned straight or at least bisexual) by the love of Doctor Hooper though… “Who the hell would have even HEARD of Molly?”  He frowned and dug into that author… From their Tumblr he found out they were somewhat acquainted with Molly from a cat group.

“Oh God this is horrible.” He frowned at the fic… “EVEN if I settled down with a girl I am not that caricature of a reformed villain.” He glared at the screen. “I’d let Sebie hunt you down but Molly would cry.” 

 _Oh please no…_ he winced and searched and eventually found Molly Hooper’s new blog, and from there her AO3 account… which was blessedly full of nothing but Glee fanfic.

_Oh thank God._

Surprisingly HOT Glee fanfic, though…

…

Sebastian woke up alone, which was pretty typical as Jim had legendary insomnia and messed up sleeping habits.  He was feeling a LOT more relaxed after last night though.  He wandered out to get coffee and see if… Jim…was…?

Jim was apparently printing an encyclopedia or something.  He was pulling off papers and clipping them together and looked positively GLEEFULL.

“Jim? Uh… what?”

“Printing some fanfiction!”

“Oh…” that hurt, “Fanfic about what, keeping Sherlock as a pet?”

“No! Mycroft!”

“Wait, what?!”  Sebastian came over and Jim handed him a packet.  He skimmed the summary… “First of all who even KNOWS about Mycroft?  Secondly…this… says… you were interrogated… uh this is a HELL of a security problem!”

“Yes I know.” Jim nodded happily, “We need to find out who they are and how much they know….and I want to give them money and possibly kiss them.  It’s not only tagged properly but its punctuated well and written at a reasonable level of education!”

“… and you have Mycroft as a pet?”

“And I have Mycroft as a pet!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: while this is crack, i did ask my husband to vet the 'Kirsten' character so she doesn't turn into a complete Mary Sue...  
> he thinks I'm under playing her... so we'll call it good.  
> BEAR IN MIND that the majority of what Moriarty has done has never been public! her knowledge is limited.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahem. My name really is Kirsten, i would only do a wedding dress for a close friend or someone with Moriarty levels of money, but i AM in fact a fashion designer. I also have contacts for wholesale Swarovski Crystals and yes i am describing real fabrics, beads and so on.  
> yes, i have designed the dress and am working on sketching it- sadly my illustration skills are not so hot.
> 
> Brianna is a friend i went to fashion design school with who does in fact do beadwork and embroidery:  
> Nikki is Mayfair Moon and does fantastic geek and fantasy work and fabulous wedding dresses too: http://mayfairemoon.com/


End file.
